


Swiftly

by indecisive_scribophile



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Inktober 2017, Romance, angst (kinda), irrelevant klance, it's a little messy and experimental but i hope you enjoy!!, shallura - Freeform, writing inktober 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 15:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12235749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indecisive_scribophile/pseuds/indecisive_scribophile
Summary: Nothing good can come out of two second-year university students exploring their feelings for each other when they know nothing about the world. In spite of this, Shiro rebels and swiftly falls in love with the embodiment of perfection known as Allura, who makes him melt more than he'll ever be able to forget.





	Swiftly

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: All characters mentioned in this story besides DO NOT belong to me. 'Voltron: Legendary Defender' belongs to DreamWorks. All rights reserved.

From across the café, I watch her.

I watch her perfect hands push her perfect stray hair behind her ear. Her perfect lips curve into a slight smile as she says, “Thank you very much,” to the barista as he walks away from her table. Her perfect cheeks turn a perfect shade of pink as she takes her first sip of chai tea. She crosses her perfect ankles underneath her chair, picking up her book from the table and continuing to read it.

Her name is Allura. She’s twenty-two years old. She grew up in England with her mother and father, who both died in an accident when she was seventeen. She dyed her previously black, long, wavy hair a pearlescent white the same year to say no to the belief that dark-skinned women can only pull off dark hair. She has a playful spirit that can be easily dampened with grief or a serious circumstance. She’s a peacemaker who believes that negotiation comes before force. She owns four pet mice named Platt, Chulatt, Plachu, and Chuchule. She loves being outside and has an intense love for space. She’s currently in her fifth year of university, studying to become a physiologist. She prefers hot chocolate over coffee and tea over hot chocolate. She’s bisexual and first came out to her uncle, whose name is Coran. She collects pens and washi tape because they’re cute despite knowing she’ll never use them. She hates messy rooms yet can’t find the motivation to clean hers. She has the kindest heart in the entire universe.

She’s the woman I’m in love with.

*

We met two years ago through Lance, a mutual friend. We all attend the same university, and she and I are both completing nutrition-based courses. Lance and I were already friends, as we went to the same high school; they met when Lance accidentally ran into her during his first year and flirted with her. After that, Lance introduced her into our friendship group, which was composed of us two and three others. Immediately, I was entranced by her honey-like voice and smile that was just as sweet. Even though the six of us were standing in the middle of our university’s courtyard when we first met, the only thing I could hear was her voice—and that was barely over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. In that moment, I knew that Allura would from then on captivate me and plague all my thoughts.

Our friends – in alphabetical order: Hunk, Keith, Lance, and Pidge – were all in their first year of university, whereas she and I were in our third. As twenty-year-olds, we were expected to be the capable, knowledgeable ones of our group. And, in a sense, we were. We shared two classes, and on the day we met, we arranged to sit next to each other during lectures. Whilst our professors flipped through PowerPoint presentations, we learned things both about our subjects and each other—things we would never expect each other to know. She knew things I didn’t, and I could comprehend complex philosophies better than she could. Knowledgeable and intelligent—with a stretch, that’s what we were labelled as.

But the truth is, she and I were only two years fresh out of high school. We had no idea of how the world worked, let alone the inner workings of someone else’s brain. It took us an hour to figure out how to work the coin-operated washing machines at our university’s laundromat; how could we turn our friendship into something more if we couldn’t even wash our clothes? ‘Capable’ could not be used in the same sentence as our names unless the prefix of ‘in-’ was added to it. Though she was knowledgeable and I was intelligent, we weren’t smart. Why?

Because we fell in love in spite of knowing nothing at all.

*

The same waiter that served Allura walks up to my table with my chai tea. I nod and thank him. Within a few seconds, he’s back behind the cash register, probably bored out of his mind. I look back at the table Allura is sitting at, and a small, sincere smile of adoration overcomes me. She takes another sip of her chai tea.

Even from across the café, I recognise the book she’s reading. The vague shades of blue, purple, and pink are unmistakable as they’ve been imprinted in my mind. She’s re-read series’ trilogy numerous times ever since I gifted her them for her birthday. In the months leading up to both her birthday and the day we officially became a ‘thing’, I had no idea of what to present to give her. At the time, I didn’t know that I loved her—but I knew that there was something there. It wasn’t love, but it wasn’t friendship. It was just… _something_. And that was enough to persuade me to get her a present she would borderline appreciate.

*

All six of us organised a day out in the city for Allura’s birthday. At this point, we were all good friends—some of us more than that. As Keith and Lance walked hand-in-hand along the bustling streets with the unstoppable friendship of Hunk and Pidge hot on their tails, Allura and I walked a couple paces behind them all. I looked down at our feet and saw them line up in perfect synchronicity. When I smiled and looked at her, she was already staring at me. That’s when I knew I’d fallen into a bottomless pit that only she could pull me out of.

 I caught Allura longingly staring at a bookstore as we approached the restaurant we’d made a reservation at for lunch. She was a selfless soul; she’d never say what she truly wanted in front of the others. Consequently, I used my voice to express hers, suggesting that we head into the bookstore before lunch. As Hunk and Pidge raced to the science section and Keith and Lance to the comics, I followed Allura as she wandered into the fiction section. Swiftly, her white dress trailed after her, flowing beautifully. Completely enthralled by the sheer enormity of the double-storey building, her curious eyes and mind became engulfed by the books that lined the ceiling-high mahogany shelves. I watched as her fingertips grazed the spines of colourful books, her head tilting to read their titles. We may have only spent fifteen minutes in the store, but being surrounded by my best friends and the one I had feelings for rendered the duration of our detour far too fast.

Before I knew it, Hunk and Pidge were at the counter paying for science books, and Keith and Lance were lovingly bickering as they walked out through the doors. The last of our group to exit the store were Allura and I—which made sense, seeing as I could spend all day watching her fall in love with the plethora of novels that had captivated her being, and she was readily willing to do so.

 She stopped at a particular shelf for a particularly long time. I followed her line of sight, but I couldn’t make out which book she was staring at. She looked up at me, smiling as she carefully took one called ‘A Thousand Pieces of You’ from the shelf. Slowly, her hands rubbed the cover of the book as she read its blurb. With pure fascination, she looked up at me again with excitement.

“Are you going to buy that?” I asked. The answer seemed certain to me, but obviously not to her. She shook her head.

“Shiro, I’m a broke uni student,” she laughed. Melancholily, she sighed and put the book back in the empty slot in the shelf. “I can’t afford it.”

We continued to walk around the rest of the store, but the ecstatic look in her eyes slowly faded as we ventured out of the fiction section. In hindsight, it was just a book. It shouldn’t have mattered. Different configurations of the same twenty-six letters and punctuation conventions shouldn’t impact someone so deeply, especially if they’ve never even read the first combinations contained within the covers. It shouldn’t have affected me as much as it did, but watching her glance back at the book she so desperately wanted pained me.

At that point, that book was so much more than that.

As we approached the shop’s exit, I turned around and walked in the direction we’d came without warning. I sped over to the one shelf she’d stood in front of longer than the rest and searched for the book that piqued her interest. The skinny font spelling out its name on the spine wasn’t hard to identify, since I had spent as much time staring at it as Allura had.

“Shiro, stop,” Allura instructed unconvincingly when she caught up to me.

I shook my head and removed the book from the shelf. “No. It’s your birthday and I haven’t bought you a present. Consider this my birthday gift to you.” I grinned as I handed her the book.

I looked back at the shelf at the spot where I’d taken out the book and paused. As Allura stared at the novel with what I could only assume was guilt, I read the spines of the other books that surrounded that spot. In the same font and design as the one she was holding, there were two other novels: ‘Ten Thousand Skies Above You’ and ‘A Million Worlds With You.’ When I pointed them out to Allura, she shook her head with vigorous insistence.

“No,” she said as unconvincingly as she’d first said it.

“But they’re sequels,” I negotiated. I grabbed ‘Ten Thousand Skies Above You’ from the shelf and flipped to the back page. “See? Look. One, two, three—you need to complete the series.”

She glanced at the shelf, then at the book in my hands. “I don’t know if I’ll even like it.”

“The back of that one—” I pointed to the one in her hands, “—talks about interdimensional travel and romance. You talk about those all the time! Sure, I can’t guarantee that you’ll like the story, but I know you’re already melting over the concept.”

Allura looked taken aback by my little spiel. She took a deep breath and shook her head one last time. As she gently took the middle instalment to the series out of my hands, she slowly said, “If I like it as much as you say I might, then I’ll buy it myself later on,” and put it back on the shelf.

Her decisiveness told me that there was no point in trying to convince her. “Alright,” I said, caving in. “I’ll buy the first one, then.”

With her perfect lips, she looked up at me again. “Thank you, Shiro.”

Without hesitation, I replied, “You’re welcome,” with a crack in my voice.

I watched as Allura walked ahead of me with a soft bounce in her step in the direction of the cashier. That unmistakable white bun of hair atop of her head bounced along, too. Almost like magic, the flowy, white dress she wore seemed to emit sparkles as white as her hair. Swiftly, it ended just below her knees and perfectly circled her perfect frame. Swiftly, she placed the book on the counter and presumably smiled at the cashier. Swiftly, she looked back at me.

Swiftly, my heart fell apart and put itself back together.

After I finished paying, Allura and I walked out of the bookstore side-by-side. We were greeted by an impatient chorus of, “You took so long!” that came from our four friends. Allura apologised half-heartedly and jokingly blamed it on me. Everyone else looked at me with coy smiles on their faces but didn’t say anything. I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat and quickly directed everyone to the restaurant that was a block away from the restaurant we’d organised to eat at.

As the others walked ahead of Allura and I once again, we looked at each other. Without warning, she grabbed my arm, stood on the tips of her toes, and swiftly pressed a gentle kiss to my left cheek.

Swiftly, I melted.

*

From across the café, I look at Allura. Those same lips that once kissed my cheek now sip chai tea from a mug that sits alone. The sun that pours in from the window she is sitting next to lights up her bright, blue eyes—but not in the same way as they did when she laid eyes on ‘A Thousand Pieces of You’. Or when she laid eyes on anything she loved.

Or when she laid eyes on me.

*

After eating lunch at the restaurant – which was honestly mediocre at best – I paid for everyone and left the building. My wallet hurt, but so did my pride.

We passed by the bookstore again, which Allura consciously looked away from, hoping that I wouldn’t bring it up again—which I didn’t. We walked past it, and a few streets later, we entered the main shopping district of the area we were in. When we walked through the automatic double doors, Allura announced that she needed to go to the bathroom. We found one, and as she walked inside, I immediately turned to the others.

“Guys, I need your help,” I said. Keith and Lance stopped bickering and looked at me. “Cover me while I go back to the bookstore.”

“You’ve already spent, like, twelve hours in there,” Hunk said.

“And half your wallet!” Pidge added.

“I know, I know,” I said quickly. “But there’s things Allura wants in there and I’m going to buy them for her.”

“What, more books? Didn’t you already buy her one?” Keith commented, crossing his arms.

“Yes, but there’s more she wants. I’m not leaving until I get them for her.” I glanced back at the bathroom. “Just—just tell her I went to withdraw money or something while I go buy them. Please, guys.”

“He’s pleading now!” Lance laughed. He elbowed me with a smirk on his face. “Man, just tell her already.”

“I plan to after I get these books!” I said with more vigour than I expected. “Sorry. I—just take her around and make sure she has fun. I’ll be back in fifteen.”

Exchanging coy looks, everyone nodded. I gave them a thumbs-up and speedily headed in the opposite direction, towards the bookstore once again. When I re-entered it, the cashier raised an eyebrow at me, to which I awkwardly grinned at. It took me even less time than before to find the books she wanted. As the cashier scanned them and I paid, my mind ran through the possibilities of what Allura’s reaction could be to my gifts. She could genuinely hate the fact that I bought the things she specifically told me not to…or, she could love it and thank me and everything would be well and good. Though I knew it would probably be the latter, my mind lingered on the former. What would happen if she completely rejected them? The books weren’t just books anymore; they were expressions of my…not love, but whatever feeling I was feeling for her. If she rejected them, then not only would my money be wasted, but so would all of my emotional turmoil. And if that went out the window, then what would become of my feelings? Would I just forget everything that happened between us? That kiss on my cheek, her soft looks, her kindness, her beauty—would it all be wasted and forgotten?

I couldn’t bear the thought of being forgotten by someone so perfect.

*

From across the café, I watch as Allura looks up from ‘A Thousand Pieces of You’. A zoned-out look overcomes her as she sighs, staring off at the wall opposite her. She glances down at her wrist, presumably to check the time, as if she’s waiting for someone. She takes another sip of her chai tea and returns to the book she’s read a thousand, million, ten thousand times. I unlock my phone to check the time: quarter to three in the afternoon. I smile into my chai tea.

*

It was about quarter to three when I met with the others again. Allura was impatiently looking at her wristwatch when I first caught sight of her. That unmistakable bun of hers complemented her beautiful, dark skin, but her eyes held a mixture of anger and worry in them when she looked at me. Even so, she was so, so pretty. So, so perfect.

“Where have you been?” she asked infuriatedly. From behind her, the other four poked their tongues out at me and grinned.

“I was withdrawing money,” I said slowly. From my bank account, yes, I was withdrawing money…and giving it to the bookstore in exchange for books.

“For twenty minutes?”

“I couldn’t find an ATM.”

Allura raised her eyebrows at me, unconvinced. Resignedly, she sighed. “Alright. Just let me know where you’re going first in the future.”

“Of course,” I grinned.

When Allura turned around, I quickly gave the brown paper bag I’d been hiding behind my back to Pidge. She shoved the books I bought into her own bag. I binned my now empty paper bag and sped up to walk alongside Allura. Together, we slowed down and let the others take their place a few strides in front of us. She looked up at me forgivingly.

We spent an hour walking around the shopping centre, constantly stopping and starting at places we found interesting. I watched as Allura bounced a few steps ahead of me when she found glittery things in shop windows, her white dress swiftly following her as it tried to catch up. In the end, Lance bought Keith a stuffed hippo as a joke, Pidge bought a pair of headphones, and Hunk bought a cookbook written by some chef whose name we didn’t recognise. Allura bought herself some pens and washi tape from a tucked-away Japanese stationery shop and didn’t stop fawning over them for a good ten minutes. I bought nothing for myself, but I drew pleasure out of seeing Allura so happy, which was enough for me.

We stopped at a café to grab drinks for the train ride back to the university. Allura insisted on paying for everyone since it was ‘all she could do to thank us for making her birthday so wonderful’—which I personally didn’t like, but my wallet certainly did. It was mostly coffees all around, and the barista taking our order judged our wide range of tastes. From a black coffee to a flat white, in my head, we ordered everything on their menu. When it came to Allura and I, however, we ordered things separate from the group. For her, it was a chai tea; for me, it was a hot chocolate. The barista seemed almost annoyed that we’d ordered something different, but she put on a smile and laughed it off.

We chose a table in a corner of the café. The room itself was quite small, but the dark grey walls tricked us into thinking it was bigger than it actually was. Leafy potted plants decorated the wall we were sitting against in a line. Our table was composed of two small circular ones shoved together, so the symmetry was thrown off quite a bit when all six of us tried to fit around it. Allura and I took the seats on the far end of the table, facing each other; the others huddled next to us, grinning weirdly between themselves. Their expressions threw me off, so I opted for looking at the beauty sitting opposite me. When our eyes met, her smile lit up the room—or maybe just our corner of it.

Eventually, everyone’s orders got handed to them. Keith’s black coffee, Lance’s cappuccino, Pidge’s flat white, and Hunk’s mocha arrived one by one at our table. They sipped away at their drinks, and when Keith burned his tongue on his, Hunk and Lance lost it so loudly that the other patrons of the café shot severe glares at us. As I told them to quiet down, Allura turned around and mouthed, “Sorry!” to those surrounding us.

 Even after ten whole minutes, the drinks Allura and I ordered didn’t arrive. We gathered that it was because we’d ordered something besides coffee. Although we were ready to wait for the drinks we ordered, the others were growing antsy. Lance was cracking terrible puns that made Hunk laugh for some reason, so I suggested that they stand outside as to prevent any more glares from the rest of the café. Keith and Pidge were just as bored, so all four grabbed their drinks and exited the building, leaving Allura and I behind.

As soon as everyone left, a silence fostered between us. It was funny—we had so much to say when during our professors’ lectures, but when the time came for proper talk, our mouths ran dry. Or, at least, mine did.

My mind was racing: should I or should I not? I thought back to what I said to Lance. I said that I planned to tell her after I bought the books…and it had been more than an hour and a half since I’d bought them. But how was I supposed to tell the absolute beauty before me that I’d grown feelings for her since the first day we met? I’d never done this before. The people I dated in high school all came to me first and confessed their feelings to me, not the other way around. Anyone else I’d liked didn’t know that I liked them at all.

Then why was it so much different with Allura? Why did I feel the need to tell her right then and there when previously, I’d been passive towards the feelings I grew for people? Why was she so special? What made her separate from the rest? What _was_ it?

“A regular chai tea and hot chocolate?”

The barista from earlier finally appeared with both of our drinks, interrupting my dramatic internal monologue. I tore my gaze away from Allura and looked up at her. She had fair skin and black hair that stopped short of her right eye, the left side of her head shaved. I nodded, and she put our drinks down in front of us.

“Sorry for the wait. We ran out of stock. And sorry about the mugs. We ran out of take-out cups.” She raised an eyebrow at me, then looked at Allura. She smiled slightly when their eyes met.

“That’s fine, thank you,” Allura said sweetly. Swiftly, she wrapped her fingers around the red mug she’d been given. She looked at me, smiling. “Looks like we’re drinking here. We can’t take these cups with us.”

I shrugged. “I’ll go tell the others.” I stood up from our table as she nodded, bumping into it in the process. I stumbled over something on the floor, and Allura giggled into her chai tea. When I looked down, I saw a brown paper bag.

My stomach hit the floor. I quickly looked over at Pidge—who wasn’t holding a brown paper bag. We made eye contact and she smirked widely, staring at me through the lenses of her huge, round glasses.

“What’s that? Isn’t that Pidge’s?” Allura asked, pointing at what I’d tripped over.

I swallowed thickly. It was now or never.

“No—well, I mean, yes, it is,” I stuttered, stumbling over my words like I’d stumbled over the bag. I bent over and picked it up. “But…some of it’s for you.”

I handed Allura the bag, and she stared at me with wide eyes. She hesitantly put down her mug and swiftly took the paper bag from my hands. With her perfect hands, she opened it. She immediately looked up at me, mouth agape.

“Shiro!” she exclaimed breathlessly. I held a closed fist in front of my mouth. “Did you—what—how? When? _Why_?” She pulled out a hardcover book from the bag. “Why did you get me a book on the science behind…Hawking radiation?” My shoulders slumped. She leaned back in her chair, laughing loudly. When she came to, she sighed happily. “I’m only kidding.” She pulled out the other two books from the ‘Firebird’ series and laid them out on the table, along with Pidge’s Hawking radiation book.

Softly, yet seriously, I said, “Happy birthday.”

There was another long silence between us as she felt the covers of the books with her hands. The covers were much like the design of ‘A Thousand Pieces of You’ except with different colours. Yellows and dark blues and intense purples captivated her, her blue eyes bright and big with delight.

Swiftly and without warning, Allura stood up, put both of her hands on my shoulders, and pressed up on her toes to kiss me. Swiftly, she pulled away, frightened of what my reaction would be. Swiftly, I wrapped an arm around her waist. Swiftly, I pulled her in for another kiss.

Swiftly, I melted.

*

From across the café, I watch as Allura puts ‘A Thousand Pieces of You’ down on the table again. She runs her perfect hands over the cover, and she smiles into her red mug of chai tea. She catches someone’s eye from the entrance of the café, the innocent sound of the bells above the door ringing faintly in my ears. Swiftly, she stands up from her seat. Swiftly, a beautiful smile embosses her perfect lips. Swiftly, her deep purple dress follows her as she steps towards the person walking towards her. Swiftly, she reaches towards her. Swiftly, she wraps a girl’s hips in her arms. Swiftly, she presses up on the tips of her toes and kisses her.

Swiftly, I break.

The shaven side of the girl’s deep, black hair is unmistakable, even from across the other side of the café. As her lips come into contact with Allura’s, she closes her eyes and smiles into the kiss. When they pull away from each other, I watch as Allura’s bright, blue eyes light up in ecstasy. Her perfect, white hair loosely falls just above her hips. With a look of adoration, she pushes the stray strands of her widow’s peak behind her ear. She sits down opposite with the girl whose lips she was so excited to kiss.

I stare down into the red mug that was given to me. Suddenly, I don’t feel like chai tea. I stir the froth with a teaspoon for a moment, then leave it alone. I stand up, leaving my hot chocolate behind. I swallow the lump in my throat as I walk past the tables that are so familiar to not only me, but Allura. I try to fight back the urge to take one last glance at her and the woman who makes her eyes light up the way I used to, but I can’t. The beauty with whom I am in love with is right there, and being in her proximity elicits melancholy emotions that I’d been fighting off for a while. Alas, I smile in her direction with solemn adoration.

If Allura swiftly forgot about me, then swiftly, I have to forget about her.

But it’s hard to forget about someone so perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! I've decided to try and participate in this year's Inktober--except instead of drawing things, I'll write things. This is probably going to be inconsistent, but that's okay. Anyways, this year's first prompt is 'Swift', and this is the result of my mind rambling on and on. This is pretty experimental, as there are many breaks within the story (more than I'd like, anyway), but experimentation isn't always bad. See you later! <3


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